


From Samurai to Geisha

by Fire_Bear



Series: Klance Month 2019 [11]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Geisha, First Meetings, Historical, Klance Month 2019, M/M, Samurai
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 20:25:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19216885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Bear/pseuds/Fire_Bear
Summary: Keith is dedicated to protecting and serving his daimyo, Shiro, so much so that he is often forced to have fun. On a trip to Kyoto, his fellow samurai, Curtis, hires a couple of geiko for the men's entertainment, and Keith finds himself thinking of someone other than Shiro for once...





	From Samurai to Geisha

**Author's Note:**

> The information in this story may not be totally accurate and I've taken certain liberties. 
> 
> But the reason for this story was because I was in Japan! And I decided it'd be cool to have the historical thing on something I'd learnt there. So everyone in this is Japanese, but I kept their appearances pretty much the same? More or less, anyway.

Keith watched the other daimyo leave, eyes narrowed. If he were to turn on them, Keith wanted to be prepared. But the man left without so much as a backwards glance, sliding the door closed with a dull thud. Silence fell for a moment and Keith waited for something to happen.

Finally, Curtis cleared his throat. “That went well, Shiro-sama.”

“Better than I had hoped,” Shiro agreed.

Frowning, Keith turned to his daimyo and fellow samurai. “I do not trust him, Shiro-sama,” he declared. “There was something funny about the way he was speaking and-”

“Be calm, Keith,” said Shiro, fondly. “I know that you are uncomfortable being away from our estate, but you must relax your vigilance. We do not need a repeat of Sendak.”

“That was justified,” Keith protested.

“True. But try not to be the one who starts the fight.”

Sighing, Keith folded his arms, ignoring the clinking of his armour. Curtis was also in his armour, his swords dangling from his hip. Shiro, however, was wearing a kimono, an attempt to show his trust and companionship with the daimyo he had been doing business with. He knelt in the middle of the room they had rented for the purpose, scrolls at his side for his perusal. Otherwise, the room was bare, the tatami mats the only adornment.

“Do you think that we have achieved all that you set out to do, Shiro-sama?” Curtis asked, attentive as ever from where he stood at Shiro's back.

“I believe that I have done as much as we can, for the moment,” Shiro said. “It looks to be going well. Kolivan-dono will be pleased.”

“That is good.”

“Does this mean that we will return home now?” Keith asked, shifting slightly. He wanted to make immediate plans for their departure.

“Perhaps tomorrow,” Shiro replied, with a nod of his head.

“Maybe we could celebrate?” Curtis suggested, smiling a little. “It will be a good way for _all_ of us to relax before the journey.”

“Hm.” Shiro tilted his head and Curtis stepped around him so that Shiro could see him better. They looked at each other for a moment and Keith shifted again, this time from the uncomfortable notion that he was intruding on something private. “I see no harm in it,” Shiro finally said, his voice low and quiet, as if it was only for Curtis.

“I will arrange entertainment for ourselves immediately,” Curtis said, bowing to their daimyo.

“I do not think that is a wise decision, Shiro-sama,” Keith piped up, frowning at them. “Anything could happen and we cannot trust-”

“Keith,” said Shiro, gently. “You are too wound up. I know you only wish to do your duty, but there is nothing to fear here. We have no enemies this far south.”

“Not yet,” Keith murmured under his breath.

Shiro chuckled. “I am sure that everything will be fine. The entertainment will be watched closely by my most trusted warriors, yes?”

“Of course, Shiro-sama,” Keith quickly replied.

“I shall find the best geiko in the city, Shiro-sama,” Curtis assured him – assured both of them, for he sent a glance in Keith’s direction. With a small nod, Keith resigned himself to what was going to happen.

Whether they turned out to be friend or foe, Keith would let nothing happen to Shiro – or die trying.

* * *

“This is ridiculous,” Keith complained. “Should they not have been here already?”

“Patience, Keith,” Shiro said, gently. “They had to pick out the best for us, did they not, Curtis-san?”

“Indeed,” said Curtis, smiling at Shiro, his eyes fixed on his daimyo. That was always the way with Curtis, Keith had noticed, yet Keith was sure he would - thankfully - never experience what Curtis did.

“There are so many better things I could be doing with my time,” Keith informed them. “Like training.”

“At this time of nigh-?” Curtis began, but he was interrupted by a commotion at the door. “Oh, they must be here.”

While Curtis left to welcome their guests, Keith stepped closer to Shiro. His daimyo gestured beside him and, a little reluctantly, Keith knelt beside him, tucking his feet underneath him and shifting until his armour stopped digging into him. With a nod of satisfaction, Shiro returned his attention to the door. Keith also watched it, waiting to see who would come through it. Finally, their entertainers for the night walked in, and Keith’s eyes grew wide.

The geiko were both men, though they were that beautiful that Keith thought they were women for a fraction of a moment. Both of them were in kimono, one in a dull orange and the other a deep blue, both with a bright green obi. The one in the dull orange had his brown hair done up in a fancy hairdo, though he only had a small, orange flower visibly pinning it up. His gaze was cool and aloof as he ran his eyes over the occupants of the room. Beside him, the one in the blue kimono flicked his bright eyes around the room in cool disinterest. His hair had several hairpieces in it, all of them bright and pretty, his brown hair piled atop his head in an intricate pattern. A navy flower topped it all and made his eyes stand out all the more.

That was the man that Keith’s eyes landed on. Somehow, Keith could feel the man’s energy, the tension he had suppressed with his perfect posture and calm façade. His face was covered in make-up, yet Keith thought he managed to wear it well. Despite how still he stood, his eyes… Somehow, they shone with life and innocent excitement, something that Keith was unaccustomed to.

“Good evening,” said the orange geiko. “I am Adam, and this is my maiko, Lance. I hope that we will be able to entertain you well this evening.”

A brief silence fell. It was so unlike Shiro that, once Keith had registered it, Keith tore his eyes away from the maiko. Shiro was staring at Adam, his eyes wide and his lips parted in surprise. Keith wondered if Shiro was experiencing the same disorienting awe that he was or if he recognised Adam from his past. Whichever it was, both Keith and Curtis were watching him, confused and concerned.

“Ah, yes,” said Shiro, slowly. “Thank you for coming. We look forward to the performance.”

“Then we shall begin,” said Adam before turning to Lance. “Once you are ready, that is.”

“Of course, Adam-sensei,” Lance said, his voice sweet. It snagged Keith’s attention again and he watched as Lance ducked out of the door momentarily. He returned with a shamisen and a respectful bow that he directed at Keith and Shiro. Keith shifted in his place, struck with the sudden desire to move closer.

The two geiko began their performance, and Keith never took his eyes off of Lance. To begin with, Lance played the shamisen alone, a sweet song that grew more cheerful as it went on. Then Adam began to sing while Lance continued to look regal beside him; Keith thought he looked prettier than any of the princesses he’d seen. A drink was pressed into his hand as he stared, presumably by Curtis or one of Shiro’s men, though he didn’t see. Instead, he took sips, desperate for something to distract him from the beautiful man before him.

Once that song was finished, Lance started another one - and, this time, he was the one to sing. His voice was clear as a bell and wove its way into Keith’s very being, lifting his spirits. A smile spread across his face and Keith could do nothing about the dreamy way he was watching Lance. No doubt someone would notice, if they were looking at him. When he glanced over at Shiro and Curtis, however, he could see that they weren’t paying attention to him: Shiro was staring at Adam, eyes still huge; Curtis was looking between them, a frown furrowing his brow.

Another song finished and Lance stood up. Keith panicked: were they leaving now? He was relieved when Lance merely passed the shamisen to Adam to allow the older geiko to play. Lance sang for them again, this time a slower, bittersweet one. It was about lost love and arranged marriages and told a narrative story. Keith wasn’t sure he liked it, as Lance sounded sad, as the song dictated. He wanted Lance to smile, to be happy… Taking a deep breath, Keith surreptitiously rubbed at his chest as his heart seemed to clench.

Some time must have passed, for some of Shiro’s men began to drunkenly slur. Keith blinked and forced himself to look around at that entourage that Shiro had brought with him. Quite a few of them were red in the face, bright smiles on their faces. They began to call for the geiko to dance, which Keith found rude. He was about to tell them to pipe down when Lance himself replied to their requests.

“Of course,” he said, just as Adam finished plucking the last few notes of their song. “But, for that, you will need to give us more room.”

“Lance-kun,” Adam said, a clear warning.

Ducking his head, Lance said, “Sorry, Adam-sensei.”

Despite Adam’s displeasure, the men were already shuffling backwards and out of the way. It took Keith a moment to copy them, his eyes still on Lance. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Curtis pulling on Shiro’s arm until their daimyo did the same. Once everyone had stopped moving, Adam and Lance stepped close to each other in a quick, quiet discussion. It ended with Lance bowing his head in respect before he stepped forward. Adam, meanwhile, picked up the shamisen.

Tinkling notes rang out in the space: Lance ignored them and stayed still, head still bowed, hands clasped together. Light glinted off his hairpieces and Keith’s fingers twitched, eager to gently remove them. Adam began to sing then, his voice clear and filled with passion. It was his words that sent Lance into his dance.

With careful steps, Lance slowly built up speed until he was twisting and spinning in carefully controlled circles. He _flowed_ , seamlessly moving from one step to another. His kimono flowed out around him, the arms giving him wings. Then, suddenly, fans appeared in his hands. With one swift jerk, they were open, both of them blue and the pattern an exact match for the material of his kimono, waves crashing against the edges. They made him look all the more like a bird, ready to fly, spreading his wings to take off into the sky and away from Keith.

For the entire dance, Keith barely breathed and he didn’t acknowledge those around him, though he felt people nudging at him or heard them mocking him. Perhaps it was because he hadn’t taken his eyes off him. Perhaps it was because Keith was a little closer than everyone else. Whatever the reason, Keith suddenly realised that Lance was moving closer and closer. When he glanced from Lance’s feet - barely a couple of feet from Keith’s knees - to Lance’s face, Keith found him looking right back at him. His eyes widened and he could feel his cheeks grow warm: Lance’s lips twitched into a small, amused smile.

Their connection lasted until the end of the song. As soon as the last note faded, Lance took several steps backwards, slipped the fans away and bowed. Adam did the same. Keith watched Lance straighten, wondering at the elegant way he moved.

“Thank you,” Curtis was saying, on Shiro’s behalf. “It was an honour to watch you perform.”

Those words startled Keith out of his stupor and he jerked his head around to look at him. Curtis stood beside Shiro, ignoring the drunken men behind them. His expression was serious and Keith got the impression that he was as unhappy as Keith had been when the other daimyo had been there. Meanwhile, Shiro still knelt, staring up at the geiko - or, rather, staring at _Adam_.

“Not at all,” Adam replied, as was the custom. “It was our pleasure to do so. We hope to see you again.”

“Thank you for requesting us,” Lance added, bowing in unison with Adam.

“Let me walk you out,” Curtis suggested.

Keith’s entire body twitched as he stopped himself from getting up. He could feel himself straining, his heart hammering. Even as he wanted to get up and pursue Lance when he slipped soundlessly out of the door, he didn’t want to make a fool of himself. It was unlikely that he would ever see Lance again, unless, by some act of the gods, he found himself in Kyoto with Shiro once again. So he let out a breath and slumped into his cushion, glancing at Shiro to make sure he was quite well.

He was rather surprised to see Shiro’s glazed eyes as he stared after Adam…

* * *

When morning dawned, Keith had felt reluctant to leave. However, he had duties to attend to, so he forced himself to wake the men and get them all ready to leave. The horses were brought out from the stables and two were put in front of the cart that was piled high with what they had been buying and trading. People moved to and fro and Keith had kept a careful eye, frowning at Curtis’s heartbroken expression.

Had something happened with Shiro while Keith slept? Or had their daimyo woken and said something thoughtless? Whatever the reason, Keith had returned to their rooms to find Shiro blinking down at a message.

“It looks like we will be staying another night,” Shiro had informed him when he spotted Keith hovering in the doorway.

As it turned out, another daimyo who knew their shogun had business with them and had arrived in Kyoto to discover that Shiro was there. So Keith was tasked with unloading everything too valuable to be left in the cart and returning the horses to their stables. Another grueling day of business was before them and Keith had borne it with patience. Eventually, everything was over and they had time in the evening for entertainment once again.

Keith tilted his head when Shiro mentioned that. “Entertainment? Like last night?” A thrill ran through him when he thought of Lance, of his beautiful movements, of those enchanting eyes.

“Hm, exactly,” said Shiro, smiling at Keith. “We hardly have geiko in the north. Let us take advantage of it while we can.”

“It does not seem like a good idea to me,” Curtis interjected, stepping forward. “That will be more money that we will be spending. Should we not keep that for other things?”

“Nonsense,” Shiro replied, waving his hand in dismissal. “I have plenty of money for that sort of thing.”

“Shiro-sama,” Curtis said, sounding hurt.

Looking between them, Keith didn’t know what to do. He knew that Curtis was unhappy with the attention that Shiro had paid Adam the night before. However, if this was a way to see Lance one last time… “I can make the arrangements, Shiro-sama,” he said.

“Thank you, Keith,” Shiro said, smiling at him. “Curtis, could you please give him the information for where you hired the geiko.”

“Of course, Shiro-sama,” Curtis murmured, his voice strained. Keith tried not to grimace and, once he had the information, he was quick to leave, jogging through the streets.

Kyoto was a beautiful place, for a city, Keith thought. Once he'd crossed the river, he delved into the narrow streets. The buildings themselves were just as narrow, all made of wood and squeezed together. He passed by little alleys that led people to their houses and, when he glanced into them, he often saw people going about their business. There were even shops and tradesmen tucked away into the maze he'd found himself in: one set of doors had been left open on someone making tatami mats, while another sold the shamisen that the geiko used. Thankfully, Curtis's instructions and directions were sound, so he didn’t get lost and it took him no time at all to find the place he sought. Relief and excitement coursed through him as he called on the head of the house.

Instead of that particular person, however, another geiko appeared to speak to him. She blinked at Keith, perhaps a little dumbfounded at the fact that he was still breathing heavily. “Yes?” she said.

“Good afternoon,” Keith said, bowing politely. “I am here on behalf of my daimyo, Takashi Shirogane. We would like to hire the geiko we hired last night.”

The geiko tilted her head for a moment. “Adam-senpai and Lance-kun?” she asked.

“Yes. That is who I meant.”

“I do apologise,” the geiko said, bowing. “But Adam-senpai and Lance-kun have just left.”

Keith’s eyes widened. If he didn’t see Lance tonight, he likely would never get the chance again. And Shiro… He wanted to make his daimyo happy. After all, Shiro had taken him in when no-one else wanted anything to do with him. His patience with Keith was unparalleled and Shiro had taught him everything that he knew. So Keith wanted to repay his kindness – though, he'd never manage that, as long as he lived. If Keith brought back Adam...

“Which way did they go?” Keith demanded.

“Excuse me?” the geiko asked, clearly confused.

“We must have those two geiko and I am willing to ask those who hired them. Please tell me which way they went.”

“That is not proper,” said the geiko, primly. “Leave here now.”

Thinking quickly, Keith realised what he needed to do. Dropping to his knees before her, Keith bowed his head, placing his hands on the ground. Hopefully she would relent before he would need to properly kowtow. “Please tell me where they went. My daimyo wishes to see Adam-dono and I _must_ see Lance-dono.”

There was a pause. Keith kept his head down. Finally, after several long moments, the geiko spoke. “Why must you see Lance-kun?”

“I-” Keith faltered and lifted his head a little, looking up at the woman. “I do not know,” he admitted. “I just... I-”

“Enough.” The geiko held out a hand to help Keith up; Keith only stared at it, uncertain as to what was happening. “I cannot guarantee that they will go with you, but they headed east.”

Orienting himself, Keith looked in the direction she meant, gazing down the road. He couldn't see anything, but there were several streets that branched off, and he hoped he would find them. Getting to his feet, Keith bowed deeply to the geiko. “Thank you so much, ma'am,” he said, before he darted off.

His feet pounded on the ground, each step eating away the distance between him and Lance. But he couldn't see him on the street. There were others going to and fro, geiko going about their business or walking with the people who had hired them. Most of them had their hands slipped into the elbows of the men, the leering grins of some of them making Keith's stomach turn. What if Lance was trapped with someone like that?

As he passed the alleys and intersecting streets, Keith glanced down them, searching. Finally, he spotted them – the two geiko had distinctive hair since the majority of people in this region darker locks. His feet skidded on the ground as he changed direction sharply, dust and dirt flying. A woman who had been passing him cried out in surprise, though Keith didn't take the time to properly apologise. There was something about the huge body of the man with Adam and Lance that seemed horrifically familiar...

Since the group was walking at a sedate pace, Keith was able to catch up with them. He tried to quiet his heavy breathing, his eyes narrowed as he tried to work out who he was looking at. Then the thinner man that was accompanying them turned slightly and Keith knew why he recognised that particular style and colour of yukata. Keith's blood ran cold as he looked back to the big man, realisation dawning with horror, even as he watched the smaller Haxus speak to Lance who was holding onto his arm. His stomach turned when he saw Lance smile brightly in return, innocent and sweet.

Normally when Sendak was involved, Keith rushed in and made trouble for both himself and Shiro. But it hadn't been so long ago that Shiro had warned him not to rush in. Instead of drawing his weapon, he froze. There was no way that Sendak would send Adam and Lance to Shiro amicably and Keith couldn't talk them into it. Starting a fight in Kyoto would mean trouble. However, he had heard tales of what Sendak did to people he found attractive – it had happened before, in Akita, where Sendak was now banned from hiring geiko or people like that. Keith had even heard rumours that people had died due to Sendak's warped affections. There was no way that Keith could allow that to happen to Adam and Lance.

So, making a decision, Keith ducked into a nearby alley and watched their progress along the street. Some men who clearly knew Sendak stopped them. They clapped Sendak on the back and loudly congratulated him on hiring a geiko and maiko. Keith gritted his teeth, his heart pounding, blood rushing, and waited until the horrible people had finished leering at Lance and said their farewells. Then, when Sendak and his entourage turned down a street, Keith darted out to follow. He repeated that process for a couple of streets, heart always in his mouth, until they turned into a narrow alley. When he reached the entrance, he peered down it, just in time to see a door slide shut. After a quick foray into the alley to make sure of the building, Keith turned and ran back the way they had come, startling people who were carrying barrels of sake to one of the temples. They yelled after him, though he ignored them, intent on reaching Shiro.

Curtis stood at the door when he returned, and he looked alarmed when he spotted Keith. “What-? What is wrong?” he asked, stepping out to speak with him.

“Shiro-sama,” Keith managed, his panting making him hard to interpret. “I need to speak to Shiro-sama.”

“What happened?” Curtis asked, hurrying after Keith when he rushed in. “Whatever is the matter?”

“I shall tell you once we- Shiro-sama.”

“What is all the noise?” asked Shiro, brow furrowed. He stood just in front of the door of the room, clearly having heard Keith's approach. “Keith, what is going on?”

“It is Adam-dono and Lance-dono,” Keith said quickly, still trying to catch his breath.

Shiro’s eyes widened. “Have they been injured?”

“Do they need our help?” asked Curtis, looking rather alarmed.

“They are with Sendak,” Keith told them, looking from Curtis's wide eyes to Shiro's paling face. “I came right here. They could be in danger. We _must_ save them. I would not be able to live with myself if anything harmed Lance-dono. And Adam-dono,” he added, hastily, “now that I know they are in harm's way.”

Shiro looked at him, his expression morphing from horror to determination. “Of course,” said Shiro, his voice calm. “We will leave right now.”

“I will come, as well,” Curtis insisted. “I know that Sendak is strong enough to need more than one person opposing him.”

“Follow me,” said Keith, and, without further ado, he turned and ran back to the building. He could hear Curtis's armour clanking behind him. Shiro wasn't wearing armour, still in his formal kimono, but he could hear his heavy footfalls.

This time, people moved out of their way easily, not bothering to protest. Perhaps they could see the seriousness on their faces, or maybe the people had already spread the gossip of Keith's run through the city. Whatever the case, they reached the place without any trouble, and Keith pulled open the door. Beyond it was a set of stairs and Keith wasted no time in rushing up them, taking them two at a time and ignoring the way his armour dug into him uncomfortably. At the top, was another door and he slid that open without pause in order to rush in. Shiro and Curtis were right behind him the entire way and he took a few extra steps to let them in before he paused to take in the scene.

Haxus was at the side of the room, his hands curled tightly around Adam's arms where he held them behind the geiko. A shamisen was at his feet, broken strings curling out, sprawled like a fallen body. Even as he struggled Adam seemed to be actively trying not to kick the instrument, jerking in Haxus's hold as much as he could. Apart from them, it was only Sendak and Lance in the room. Sendak sat upon a raised cushion that had elaborate armrests attached to it, his socked feet planted on the floor. He had spread his legs to accommodate Lance who he seemed to have been pulled towards him, even as the poor maiko struggled against Sendak’s hold. Keith stared at Lance in unmitigated horror, not quite believing the state that the maiko was in.

Lance's kimono had been tugged out of place till it had twisted around him, his obi askew. With his struggling, one half of the kimono had slipped down to reveal his shoulder and part of his tanned chest. One of his socks had been tugged on and was hanging half off his foot as he pushed and pushed at Sendak's chest, trying to get off of Sendak's lap. But Sendak's arm was looped around Lance's waist, forcing him to stay. His make-up was running from where tears had fallen; Lance's entire expression was fearful. But the worst thing was his hair. Instead of the beautiful arrangement he had had only a little while ago, Lance’s long hair had been pulled from where it had been pinned. Sendak had one hand in his long locks, gripping it tightly. Flowers and pins and clips littered the tatami mats in front of them, a trail from where Lance had been pulled from the middle of the floor, likely while he was dancing. Keith knew that geiko took great care of their hair, everything they did to it so precise. Now, Lance looked as though he’d been violated, though, thankfully, that didn’t seem to have happened yet.

Before Keith and his companions could do anything, Lance turned his head to look at Adam. Whatever he saw in Adam’s eyes had him turning back to Sendak, just as the bigger man realised what was happening. “What are you doing here?” Sendak demanded, glowering at all of them, his grip on Lance tightening.

Hands curled into fists, Keith clenched his teeth. He wanted to run Sendak through, but with Lance where he was… There was no way that Keith could hurt him, so he would have to use fists to get Sendak to let go of Lance. With a glare at Sendak, Keith stepped forward. “Let him-”

His eyes widened when he was interrupted in the most unexpected way. Lance didn’t wait for him to reach Sendak or to do anything to help him. He flicked his wrist and one of his fans popped out from under his kimono’s sleeve. The action made the kimono slip further, revealing a pink nipple; Keith only noticed that for a mere moment before Lance’s subsequent movement completely distracted him. Without waiting for Sendak to react to what he was doing, Lance grabbed hold of the folded fan and, with a sharp jab, rammed the end of it into Sendak’s throat.

Gasping for breath, Sendak let go of Lance, clutching at his throat. Quickly, Lance scrambled from Sendak’s lap. Keith stepped forward to meet him and managed to catch him just as he stumbled, tripping on the loose sock. Lance gripped at Keith’s armour, his fingers curled around the edges as he pressed his forehead against Keith’s chest. Despite the desire to hug Lance close, Keith kept his hands on Lance’s arms, his grip perhaps a little too tight.

Looking over his shoulder for some sort of assistance, Keith found that Haxus was curled up on the floor in pain, his hair loose and falling around his face. Adam stood beside him with Shiro hovering close by, frowning deeply. Curtis stood between Keith and Shiro, his hand on his sword, ready to defend them both. When Curtis suddenly tensed, pulling on his sword, Keith returned his attention to Sendak to find that he had struggled off his regal cushion. There was murder in his eyes and Keith pulled Lance closer, prepared to hold the maiko there while he fought off Sendak if he needed to.

It was something he never got the chance to do. “Sendak,” Adam snapped. “You dare to treat us geiko as your own property. This is unacceptable.”

Sendak glowered at them all and pulled himself up to his full height, towering over Keith and Lance. “You dare to hurt a daimyo in this way?” he demanded, his voice hoarse. Once he’d finished speaking, he began coughing, clutching at his throat once more. In Keith’s arms, Lance trembled, and Keith pulled him still closer.

“This is no way-” Shiro began.

“Shut up!” Sendak snarled. “They are geiko. They know what they are used for. Entertainment and pleasing their clients. They are nothing more than prostitutes.”

Lance stilled against Keith. Unable to bear Lance’s fear and hurt any longer, Keith let go of Lance so he could put his arms around the maiko. He even took a step back, drawing Lance away from the horrible man before them. Keith knew well that geiko were not prostitutes in any way, but to be thought of in that way must have been hurtful to Lance and Adam. Sure enough, when he glanced at Adam, he found that he had frozen, his eyes wide.

“We are not prostitutes!” The voice had come from around Keith’s chest and he looked down, surprised to see that Lance had turned his head enough to glare at Sendak. His eyes were a little red and there were tears caught in his eyelashes. Keith had the sudden urge to sweep Lance in his arms and carry him somewhere safe.

“What Lance-kun says is true,” said Adam, firmly. “No geiko would ever wish for that to happen. And no geiko will ever entertain you again after this.”

“What?” Sendak growled. He took a threatening step forward, but Curtis unsheathed his sword and he stopped. Shiro also stepped forward, his jaw clenched.

“You had best leave,” he said, his tone still calm but inviting no argument.

“These are my rooms!” Sendak snapped, a fist tucked at his side.

“Leave.”

Sendak glared back at Shiro. Then he cast his eyes over the room until he spotted Haxus, still on the ground but beginning to recover. Adam shifted slightly, just enough to let both Sendak and Haxus know that, should Haxus try anything, Adam would likely take care of him while he was still weakened. At least, that was the impression that Keith had and, clearly, Sendak thought the same. Gritting his teeth, the bigger man stomped across the room, jerking his chin at Haxus to indicate that he should follow him.

As Haxus scrambled to his feet, Sendak paused by Keith’s side. Keith tensed, his fingers twitching, wanting a sword yet unwilling to let Lance go. Sendak glowered at Keith before turning his attention to Lance who raised his head defiantly. Sneering, Sendak stepped closer: Keith shifted a little so that he could get between Sendak and Lance if he needed to.

“You are pathetic,” Sendak snarled at the maiko. “And you are ruined now. Never cross me again.”

Lance turned his head into Keith’s chest again, pressing his forehead against Keith even more. Keith shot a glare in Sendak’s direction, but he was already gone. They could hear his and Haxus’s stomping footsteps heading down the stairs. Then, silence fell, and they were gone. Brow furrowing more at their escape, Keith hugged Lance tighter, aware that Lance was trembling once again.

It was Adam who broke the silence. “He is correct, Lance-kun. You have been disgraced. We cannot do up your hair again and, when you are seen, you will probably be thrown from Nyma-sama’s house.”

Keith was startled when Lance pushed him away with enough force that he stumbled back a few steps. The maiko turned on his teacher, tears in his eyes and arms waving with his words. “Please, Adam-sensei. I cannot leave now!”

“I am sorry, Lance. Nyma-sama will not accept this. Some sort of punishment for your state would be handed down to even me. But you have been here for only a year, and are still in training. I have no doubt that our matriarch will want you gone.”

“It was not Lance-dono’s fault,” Keith protested.

“I know,” admitted Adam. He bit his lip for a moment: Shiro shifted beside him, glancing back to Lance. “But Nyma-sama has been looking for an excuse to get rid of you, Lance-kun.”

“What?” Lance took a step forward, a desperate look in his eyes. “Why?”

“You know she prefers money to the people in her care.”

“But… That was the whole point…” said Lance, his voice dropping as he spoke till he was merely whispering. “If… If I return home, the debt will not have been paid.”

“Debt?” asked Keith before he could stop himself.

Lance turned to him, blinking. His kimono had fallen even more, only kept up because the material was trapped between his body and arm. One half of his chest was on display and, as he turned, Keith could see his leg briefly when the material spun around him. Licking his lips, Lance searched Keith’s face for a moment before he ducked his head; Keith had the notion that he was ashamed.

“My family is large,” Lance explained. “We had money troubles a few years ago and borrowed money to keep ourselves afloat. However… the debt was passed to Nyma-sama and, when she came to collect, we did not have enough to repay it. So I sold myself to her as a geiko and promised to repay her that way.”

“How much do you owe her?” asked Shiro, his head tilted a little in the way he did when he was thinking about something. Keith frowned at him in confusion.

“One… One thousand ryo,” murmured Lance. “We… There were a lot of things we had to borrow money for and the interest…”

Keith gaped at Lance. That was a _lot_ of money to owe someone. There likely wasn’t even any way that someone like Lance could pay it back, not even by becoming a geiko. He might have been better off turning to crime. Heart aching, Keith looked to Shiro, hoping he had a solution. Shiro’s shocked expression suggested he didn’t have one and Keith’s heart sank.

“You will have to find another way to pay it back,” Adam told Lance. “Although… I expect it will mean that your family will have to sell its farm.”

“We cannot do that!” Lance protested.

“Then I shall pay off your debt,” interjected Shiro.

There was a pause while everyone absorbed the turn of events. Then, with wide eyes, Lance croaked, “ _What_?!”

“I will speak with this Nyma-sama and pay off your debt. I have plenty of money to spare.”

“But you cannot do that! You barely know me!”

Smiling, Shiro stepped closer and put a hand on Lance’s still-clothed shoulder. “I know. But I wish to help. That is what our shogun does and what I aspire to do every day.”

“I-” Lance faltered, looking both confused and emotional.

“Do not worry, Lance-dono. This was in no way your fault and I will not let you suffer for it.”

Keith watched a tear drop from Lance’s eyelashes and roll down his cheek. “You… _Thank you_.” Lance paused and took a breath. “But… I must repay you your kindness, so please tell me what I can do for you in exchange.”

“There is nothing I need,” Shiro replied, his kind smile still in place.

Lance put a hand on Shiro’s wrist and Keith twitched, wishing it was him that Lance was clutching. “Please. I want to do something for the man who is willing to help me when I have done nothing for him.”

Shiro tilted his head again, looking at Lance, considering him. The intensity of his gaze must have unnerved Lance, for he stepped back slightly, just enough for Shiro’s hand to fall from his shoulder. “What did you want to do with your life, Lance-san, before you were sent here?”

Startled, Lance stepped back again. Then, inexplicably, he glanced at Keith, meeting his gaze. Those pretty blue eyes were wide and scared, though his expression softened when he Keith gave him what he hoped was a reassuring smile. Lance tugged on his kimono’s sleeve absentmindedly as he took a deep breath. “I… I wanted to be a samurai, Shiro-dono. Though, there was no way for me to receive any training.”

“Then, what I would like you to do, is to serve me for a few years, as one of my samurai,” Shiro said, his smile growing as Lance’s shock became more pronounced. “You will have to be trained, of course, but I have no doubt that Curtis and Keith will be able to do that.”

Keith jolted when Shiro said his name, surprised that he was being given such an important task. “I will make sure you are good enough to serve Shiro-sama,” Keith told Lance when the maiko looked at him in awe.

“I… I do not know what to say…” Lance murmured, tugging at his kimono again.

“Will this really be okay?” Curtis asked Shiro.

“Of course,” Shiro replied. “And even if our shogun protests, I will not abandon Lance-dono. Or shall I call you Lance-kun?”

“I- Um… Yes?” Lance’s cheeks were red, his eyes darting around the room. “Of-Of course, Shiro-dono.”

“Then I shall talk to Nyma-sama immediately.” Shiro turned to Adam. “Will you please take me to her to discuss this?”

“I will at least take you to her house,” Adam said, his eyes sliding from Lance to Shiro easily. “But I cannot guarantee an immediate meeting.”

“That is perfect. Thank you.” When Shiro turned to Keith, he had to force himself to focus on his daimyo and not Lance, who was trembling again, his eyes wide, his breathing uneven. “Keith. Please go back to our rooms and arrange for the money to be delivered to Nyma-sama.”

“Of course, Shiro-sama.”

“Lance-kun,” said Adam, catching the younger man’s attention. “You will have to come with us.”

“Ah. Yes,” Lance said, sounding rather distant. Once again, he attempted to pull his kimono up, but it slipped down right away.

With a small noise, Keith stepped forward. Carefully, he reached out, grabbed the sleeve and yanked it up until it settled onto Lance’s shoulder. He let go immediately, suddenly realising how improper his action had been. Lance’s small gasp was audible in the silence that followed.

“I…” said Keith, slowly, “shall leave immediately.” He dared to look up then, pausing for only a moment when he found himself captivated by Lance’s shining eyes, still swimming with unshed tears. “We will see each other soon,” Keith said as a parting remark. Lance nodded, still dazed, and Keith turned on his heel before he gave in to the impulse to draw Lance into another hug…

* * *

Keith stepped back from the cart with a heavy sigh, wiping his brow with the back of his wrist. They had finally organised all of their things and gotten everything packed away. It was considerably lighter, despite all of the trading they had done; Shiro had willingly sold some nonessential things in order to pay off Lance’s debt. According to the daimyo, Lance had been unable to hold back tears when everything was said and done.

Now that they were ready to go, all they were waiting for was Lance. He hadn’t returned from the geiko’s house with Shiro the night before, wanting to pack his own belongings and be able to say his farewells. Keith was anxious for him to return, worried over his safety. What if Sendak popped up again to get his revenge? What if Nyma decided against letting Lance leave with them? What if someone attacked Lance on their way to them and he was dragged into an alley to die? Would anyone ever find him?

Biting his lip, Keith turned from the cart and returned to the room Shiro was in. Curtis was there, ostensibly standing guard, though, as Keith approached, he heard angry voices beyond the closed door. Confused, Keith knocked on the doorframe before he slid open the door and bowed. “Everything is ready,” he said as he straightened, looking between them.

Curtis stood near the door, his back to Keith. His shoulders were hunched and, as Keith quickly noticed, he was trembling a little. Shiro knelt in his usual place in the middle of the room, a frown on his face and body tense. After a moment, however, Shiro relaxed somewhat and gave Keith a weak smile. “Thank you, Keith. We will be right out.”

“Of course, Shiro-sama.”

Before Keith could turn to leave, Shiro added, “Is Lance-kun here yet?”

“Ah,” said Keith, trying not to grimace. “No. Not yet.”

“Then there is no rush,” Shiro said, turning back to Curtis. Keith glanced at his fellow samurai as he left, but couldn’t see his face.

Outside, Keith headed for the cart to make one last check. He was so focussed on the task, that he didn’t notice the person standing beside the door as he passed. It was only when he heard someone clear their throat that he realised there was anyone there. Startled, Keith spun around, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

He had no makeup - that was the first thing that Keith noticed. His skin was still smooth and his cheeks were rosy, though, whether that was from embarrassment or the sun beating down, Keith didn’t know. Those blue eyes were still as intense, watching Keith’s reaction. The plain navy kimono that he wore drew attention to his eyes. But his hair was the most striking difference: instead of the way he had had it pinned up, or the loose waves that he had seen him with the day before, he now had it in a long braid that he’d draped over one shoulder. Over the other, he had slung a heavy knapsack.

“Um, good morning,” said Lance, looking rather nervous.

“Good morning, Lance-dono,” Keith replied, smiling. Lance relaxed immediately and his smile returned ten-fold. “Since we do not have a horse for you yet, you will have to ride on the cart. I hope you do not mind.”

“Of course not. And you do not need the -dono.”

“Then… Lance-kun?” Keith suggested.

“Perfect,” said Lance, grinning. Then, without warning or reason, Lance stepped forward and grabbed Keith’s hands. His eyes widened as he stared into Lance’s; they were sparkling with unbridled joy. “Thank you so much for doing this for me, Keith-dono. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“I…” Keith murmured, still in awe of Lance’s beauty.

Before he could say or do anything else, however, Lance let go of his hands and stepped around him. He told Keith that he was going to greet the other men and he slipped away, heading to the laden cart. Keith turned to watch him go, watching his hair bounce against his back as he moved. The sudden desire to run his fingers along the braid struck Keith and he hoped that he would be able to get himself under control before he had to help train the former maiko…

**Author's Note:**

> In case anyone was wondering, men used to be geisha before women were, as far as I can tell. They entertained people before they went on to see the courtesans, apparently. I changed it slightly, and may have mixed modern day information with historical but I figured it wouldn't matter too much. 
> 
> But, anyways, can you imagine Team Voltron in samurai armour. It'd be cool. :D


End file.
